


roses.

by VONR4UM (orphan_account)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Catholic Guilt, Catholic Prussia, Cuddling, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Internal Conflict, No Sex, Prussia-Centric (Hetalia), Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23976667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/VONR4UM
Summary: 'Prussia's hands trembled as they clutched Hungary's own, and his mind spun dizzily until all he could focus on was her skin on his, their hands together, their lips mere centimeters apart. He could feel her soft breaths upon his lips, could smell her distinct perfume - she smelled like roses, and Gilbert tried to focus on that, too.'
Relationships: Hungary/Prussia (Hetalia)
Kudos: 18





	roses.

Prussia's hands trembled as they clutched Hungary's own, and his mind spun dizzily until all he could focus on was her skin on his, their hands together, their lips mere centimeters apart. He could feel her soft breaths upon his lips, could smell her distinct perfume - she smelled like roses, and Gilbert tried to focus on that, too. 

He tried to focus on everything but his own mind, attempted to gaze into her  _ enchanting  _ emerald eyes, the gorgeous green landscape layed out in mere fractions of her being - her eyes were truly beautiful.  _ She  _ was truly beautiful. 

She was a  _ fucking badass, _ too. Prussia almost missed the days where he and Elizabeta would argue day after day, fight constantly - he missed when they would charge at one another, swords equipped and only one intent in their minds, which was to hurt the other. Because then, it didn't matter. They were nations, they could heal fast and resurrect if killed. 

It was different, now. 

Hungary was still all that, still fire against every evil of the world, still able to punch anyone who dare challenge her, able to live for herself and herself only - Gilbert could still see years of anger in her eyes, centuries of war upon her skin marked by scars.

And yet here they were. Together, hearts beating faster, and faster, and faster - 

His mind screeched at him, his strict Catholic background pulling at every fibre of his being until he was afraid he would rip apart limb from limb; he felt the sudden urge to pray. 

He wanted to apologise suddenly, for engaging in such acts as current time, though he didn't regret it. 

Gilbert told himself to focus on Elizabeta, her soothing smile, her thumb gently caressing his hand,  _ anything but  _ the rapid beating of his own Catholic country in his chest. He didn't regret moments like that. He only regretted moments in which he hurt the ones he loved - Ludwig, Lovino, Feliciano, Francis, Roderich - and he'd hurt Elizabeta, too. He couldn't understand how she didn't hate him for all that he'd done. 

Yet when she moved away from him, he felt shame and desperation and want. He felt as if the world would crash down on him, and maybe it would - he wasn't a nation anymore, things were different for him - maybe Elizabeta would  _ leave  _ him,  _ forever. _

He tried to will himself to pull her back in, kiss her soft looking lips, like he'd seen people do many a time during his lifetime, though he knew he couldn't. He couldn't. 

His existence started in 1190, and as both the Teutonic Order  _ and  _ Prussia, he'd never met someone else quite like Hungary. He'd never touched anyone like he'd touched her, even if it was merely holding her hand or hugging her close - he'd never  _ kissed  _ anyone in all his years of living, and as a military born state, it made sense. Now, as the dissolved kingdom of Prussia, it made no sense to him. 

He wanted to. He wanted to press his lips to hers and feel her smile against his, he wanted to feel the Hungarian shift between his legs from where he sat, wanted to be kissed until he ran out of oxygen, but he couldn't. Not yet. 

He wasn't ready, still after the centuries he'd lived, he wasn't ready. 

The Catholic Church instilled it into him, that engaging in acts outside of the platonically acceptable was  _ sinning,  _ and that in God's eyes he was a sinner and nothing but; and as a former Catholic country, he couldn't do much but still be fearful of God's opinion of him. 

Gilbert moved his hands, suddenly, and grabbed her own warm hand, clutched it once more like his life depended on it. It did. His life depended on that simple touch, the validation from the woman he loved, not just as a country, but as a person too. His hands trembled, still. 

"I'm- I'm sorry," His voice came out raspy and quiet, and he wasn't sure whether Eliza heard him or not, but it's apparent she did from the way she moved in closer again and squeezed his hand back. 

She looked at him with  _ those eyes _ , and Gilbert told himself to keep breathing consistently, and then she spoke, "Hey, hey, why are you sorry?" 

Her soft tone made him sniffle and lean closer to her, seeking warmth and the love that radiated from her - he knew it was there, he could sense it; she loved him. He trusted her, with his everything. 

"I'm- I'm not ready for, uh,  _ anything,  _ really, and I kept thinking about," A hitched breath made him conscious of the hand on his shoulder, and the other holding his, yet he wasn't sure whose breath it was, "the Church, and the past, and I um, I love you. I love you a lot, Eliza - y-you moved away from me and I thought you were leaving-" 

"Hey, calm down, Gil, you're thinking too much. I would never do anything without asking and I'd never force you into anything you don't want. I love you how you are, regardless of any of your imperfections. I'm sure you love me regardless of mine. It's fine to not be ready. I'd never leave you."

And once again, Prussia was conscious of the smell of roses, and as he moved to sit in her lap and started sobbing against her neck as she held him, he became conscious of the way his heart heated faster, not in panic. 

In love. 


End file.
